


explorations of a cyborg's relationship to the sense of touch

by viscountfrancisbacon



Category: One Piece
Genre: Blood, Brief mentions of gore, Gen, man Franky's cyborgness is so cool I want to play with it more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viscountfrancisbacon/pseuds/viscountfrancisbacon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>surprise! cyborgs can bleed too!<br/>the rest of the crew is not very pleased by this surprise. what debbie downers.</p>
<p>or in which franky finds himself reconsidering the decision to include artificial nerves supplementing his damaged natural ones in his mechanization. turns out a pain is a motherfucker when you don't get to experience it much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	explorations of a cyborg's relationship to the sense of touch

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to experiment with franky, since he's really cool. also did some experimenting with dialogue and the invasive nature of pain, hope it doesn't come off as completely awkward and weird.

Franky had always known, from the moment that he begun his first stint of major body self-modification, that there was going to be good things and bad about becoming a cyborg. Some of the good things were obvious: he was tough and strong as hell (well, compared to normal people anyway), he'd gained a more unique understanding of machinery than the majority of machinists ever did, and Franky had never been one for modesty so he could freely admit that he was now _suuuuuuuuper_ cool. Some of the worse things – like the circumstances and injuries that necessitated his transformation and the fear and doubt that some people viewed him with – were also plainly apparent.

One of the more mixed things, however, was his unique relationship with the sense of touch. When Franky had been rebuilding his critically damaged body in the only way he knew how, one of the hardest areas to fix had been his arms. Horridly mangled, one of them attached by little more than bloody gristle and shattered bones, it had taken him a _lot_ of work to create something that looked and acted like a normal human's arms ought (superficially, that is).

Easily the most difficult part of that tough job, however, was trying to salvage his remaining nerve endings. He'd been dead determined to keep whatever sensation he could in his hands, even as he improved their grip and carefully fine-tuned the intricate yet strong joints of the fingers. Franky wasn't the smartest man when it came to things outside his trade, but he was a dedicated craftsman and he knew damn well how to take care of his tools.

Eventually, the newly-minted cyborg had figured out a careful prototype system of artificial nerves, bundles of delicate wires studded with the occasional adapters and nodes to transmit and translate electrical signals into something his brain would hopefully understand. Splicing together the artificial nerve endings with his natural ones was very literally a pain, but he'd endured worse since his ill-fated encounter with the sea-train. Once it was over, however, Franky could _feel_ things other than dull or piercing agony in his arms again, even if most of the sensation was severely dulled by the multiple protective layers of silicone and steel that he covered the fragile artificial nervous system with.

Thus, contrary to popular belief, he could actually feel things. Things that he “felt” against the surface of his mechanical arms (and his other mechanical body parts, once he extended the system to them as well) were more like phantoms of actual touch rather than something human skin would pick up, barely discernible against the constant faint vibrations of his internal cola engines, but he adjusted.

He didn't mind it because really, except for the parts of the hands that Franky required to do real delicate work, the artificial nerves were supposed to serve practical purposes rather than being a comforting luxury of his formerly fleshy life. He didn't want to fall into the same trap that finally felled Oars back in Thriller Bark; completely eliminating pain but being unable to use that pain to tell when his body was dangerously damaged. Pain, distracting and uncomfortable as it was, played a role that Franky wanted to preserve. So his artificial nervous system was deliberately most sensitive at his core, where a serious blow would felt much more intensely than one that barely breached his outer shell of reinforced steel.

Franky stared at the waves, the distant planks and lawn deck of his beloved Sunny, and wished that this week's Franky wasn't quite so _suuuperly_ introspective. Seriously, he was way too cool to be doing this much thinking about the irrelevant past. The whole brooding shtick was really not his deal anyway, something for Zoro and Sanji maybe. Zoro was a pretty serious guy, pretty dark at times as well, Franky could see him staring moodily into the distance while working up a good sulk at life in general. Although Zoro being Zoro, the guy'd probably just go swing his enormous weights around or do katas or sleep his moods off. If he didn't just booze the emotions away, that sounded like something Zoro-y to do. And Sanji, Sanji had his cigarettes. Smoking and brooding went together like nails and planks, or cola in his engine, or cola in his stomach. Franky wanted some cola right about now. Well, he wanted cola a lot, but he wanted it even more now. He hoped he wasn't out, he just refueled the other day.

Speaking of running out of cola, Franky supposes he should do something about all the leaking. He can even hear the cola drip drip dripping out the ruptures of his fuel lines, although he's not sure if he's actually hearing that or just imagining it. His mind is being particularly unsuper right now, and he wishes he'd thought to just replace the thing with metal already. Although, no, then he'd end up like...bear guy, cyborg, protected Sunny, paws...Kuma! That was his name. He'd end up with no brain and no free will like Kuma and then he wouldn't be human at all, just a real robot with no emotions or anything. He'd be just like a Pasifista, which would be funny given that he was pretty sure it was some fancy new anti-Pasifista weapon that just tore straight through his steel body like it was paper. That's gotta be some weapon, he should go take a look at it.

That is, he should go look at it when every nerve, natural or artificial, isn't screaming a ten thousand man chorus at him. That's the bad thing, Franky was thinking earlier; even if he kept some sense of pain, it was so dull and him so strong that he barely got to feel anything intense, so when he got hit like this it was like he had no pain tolerance at all and it hurt it hurt _a lot_ it hurt so bad. Franky wonders why he isn't screaming, then remembers a stray shot clipping his mechanical voice box. Whatever, damage that slight will correct itself in a few minutes. Although his mouth is filling with tangy blood, which doesn't help the whole speaking thing. He doesn't want to choke on it and suffocate or anything, that'd be pathetic.

Speaking of blood, he was mistaken earlier, only half of the dripping is actually cola. Damn, he must be hurt pretty bad if he's actually bleeding. Franky hopes Chopper won't yell at him for getting cola all over his blood, that's probably medical contamination or something. Although he's pretty contaminated as it is, shrapnel and blood-cola mix crawling all over the jagged ruined edges of his arm and scattered bits and pieces of his metal insides all over the grass. It looks like nice grass, too, still got dew on it and everything. Not as nice as Sunny's grass, of course, Sunny is just about perfect, but nice grass.

Franky frowns when his peripheral vision catches the tiny hooves and stylish heels trampling all over the nice grass. He thinks about telling them to be careful, but his ringing ears picks up the wavering, frantic, high-pitched voice. Franky figures that Chopper sounds upset enough as it is, so he'll get it go this once. Nami sounds downright panicked, not just scared like she sometimes is but actually freaked out. That ain't super at all, Franky decides, what if the Kuma weapon got her too? It was pretty bad, like, he hurts so much, he hurts _so much_ , he hurts a lot so it must have been pretty bad. He isn't going to think about the pain. He isn't going to think about the pain. He isn't going to think about the agony consuming his side and the way _it hurts so bad it hurts_ —

Oh, maybe he can speak, or at least make noise. Chopper makes that particular sound when he's strangling a sob and out of the corner of one wide eye Franky can see him digging in that tiny little backpack, tears being held back by sheer force of will. What a strong little reindeer, how brave, only Chopper isn't really all that little where it counts. Like, most of the time he's tiny but sometimes he's kinda big if you're a normal sized guy, and in his heart and definitely in his mind Chopper is as big as the rest of them. It takes brains and hard work and guts (Franky chuckles a little at his own joke before the blood fouls him up. Chopper makes another one of those sounds) to be a doctor, after all, and Chopper is gonna be the best doctor so he's gotta have all those things in spades.

He wants to tell their brave little zoan doctor this, because it's important, because Chopper is important, but then his roving eyes jerk the other away suddenly— _it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts_ —and now he's staring at Nami. Their navigator, just as strong and brave as their doctor, has her calloused hands on his undamaged arm. The look in her eyes is, it's not good. It's not good at all. Franky itches to _do something_ only instead of wanting to build like usual he wants Nami to stop looking like that. Didn't anybody ever tell her looking like that was no good? She's such a stubborn woman, she might have ignored them. He must have swallowed most of the blood in his mouth, because finally Franky can open his mouth without fear of drowning in iron liquid. He tries to ask her if something is wrong, is she alright, _pain_ does she need help but _pain pain it hurts it hurts so much_ and then all his voice does is jitter and gasp.  


Which is bad, because now he swears Nami is shaking just a little and he can just hear Chopper taking a deliberately deep and steady breath before it gets worse because _it hurts it hurts pain it hurts make it stop_ someone just tentatively ran a hoof over a cluster of nerve wires. Well, he guesses it was a hoof, because Nami has one hand gently laid on his arm and the other gripping her Clima-Tact so hard it could break and Chopper takes another breath before calmly apologizing. Then his ringing ears hear more footsteps and Franky jerkily twists his head around because his nakama seem a little distracted at the moment.

He can see two sets of polished elegant shoes, flashes of white bone peeking above one and the heels of the other effortlessly traversing the slightly rough terrain and Franky tries to sigh louder than the blazing torture of his body. Then crinkles his brow a little because Brook is humming and still holding his sword-cane in both hands, and he can't see Robin's face at this angle but the measured gait and sway of her hips speaks volumes. Franky is distracted himself by a hat blocking out the sun as Chopper leans over his face and gently feels around his neck with those hooves of his. He wonders what the doctor is looking for, and why it's his whole body that feels cold instead of Chopper's hoof. Don't people always talk about how doctors have cold hands? Or is that just human doctors without fur who don't need to transform to have fingers. Maybe. Franky hasn't been to a doctor since before he became a cyborg. What's the need, when most of him needs the attention of a mechanic anyway?

Someone is trying to ask him something. He knows because he hears his name, and also because the speaker is two inches away from his face. Damn, he forgot to listen. That's annoying, now Chopper has to repeat himself. Franky tries to focus but then someone _else_ says his name and he pays attention to that instead. It takes a few _pain pain pain stop please stop_ seconds to place the voice, but eventually he recognizes a tone Franky associates with flames and heads getting kicked the wrong way around. The fight, Franky is pretty sure there was a fight, must be over then. Which means he went and missed most of it, so maybe Sanji is coming to thank him for the extra targets? Only Sanji has that husk to his voice that he gets when he's really pissed, like the anger is letting the smoke get to his lungs. Franky is morbidly disappointed that Chopper is blocking his view, so he can't see how much blood got on Sanji's sturdy dress shoes.

Then the hooves move to clutch his head and fur tickles his ear as a voice oddly devoid of laughter or excitement or even fear murmurs. It says _Franky. Franky I need to know where to inject the anesthetic. Where do you have flesh, real flesh, that I can use. Franky, I know it hurts._ It does, it really really does. Hurts a lot. _I know, but where. I need you to focus for me. Where do you have real human flesh._ Hurts. _I know._ Hurts so much. _Franky,_ please _focus. I can stop the pain. You just need to tell me where to inject the painkillers._ He's steel. Why would he need painkillers? _You're not entirely steel, and you're injured._ Really? How you'd guess? Another voice remarks _because there's blood all over you, genius, and you're a fucking cyborg. You ain't got much of that shit. Man the hell up and tell Chopper where to stick the needle in you, 'less you're scared of needles._ Wow, Sanji, you're kind of a dick. Has anyone ever told you you're kinda a dick? _Yeah, sure, plenty of people. Don't change the subject, what parts of your ass aren't wrapped in metal._ The inside parts, duh.

It's silent for a moment. Franky has enough time to realize that while the voices distracted him from the pain really well his vision has started to get all wobbly and faint. Then the second voice starts up again with _Chopper, I'm pretty sure his back was still...meaty two years ago, did you check there? Back of his neck still might be good, I can_ — Huh, flowers. The faint scent of them, anyway, and then the sensation of many calloused hands out of nowhere. They're careful, but have no trouble raising Franky's torso and head up half a foot. He thinks he makes some sort of pained noise anyway, though, but the effort was nice. _Robin-chan, please, let me, you shouldn't have_ — A third voice. _It's no problem, I assure you._ Robin's voice isn't husky-rough like Sanji's, but something in her words is similar and reminds Franky of the way her hips moved, calm and dangerous in the way that only predators and the sea ever master. Or maybe he's just really, really out of it. _I don't even have to move. Besides, what kind of cook gets human blood on his hands. What if Franky has a horrible disease?_

He's just running some numbers through his head and wondering where the last members of the crew are when his elevated position pays off. Franky's sight clears just enough to make out red and blue and green and the glint of folded steel coming towards them and he sighs, because they're walking and upright and that's good. That's very good, he's grateful. He guesses the fight must not have been so tough, then, since nobody seems injured...well, nobody but him. Franky is, like, a lot injured. Many injured. Super injured, even. He wonders when they drew straws to pick who got hurt today, because he think he got all of the straws, and now there's blood and cola and shrapnel everywhere and everything hurts and he definitely can't walk or stand upright for sure. Oh hey, maybe that's why Sanji is so pissed; because the fight wasn't good. That'd make sense. Franky decides to ask Sanji if that's why he's so mad.

_Huh? Franky, what are you...oh. Oh. The fight? The hell I'd be pissed about that for? Because it was an easy...Franky what the hell, that doesn't make any sense. I'm not pissed about the fight, ok, it's fine. We took care of it. Now shut the hell up and let Chopper stick some drugs in you._ Sanji's voice gets farther away as he finishes his sentence, and Franky is confused until someone asks something indistinctly and Sanji's voice answers _Going to go check on Usopp and the Sunny, I'll be back in a minute._ Oh. Franky wondered where their sharpshooter was. It's really good of him to look after the ship like that, someone has to. Gotta make sure the shiny painful Kuma-weapons don't hurt his beloved ship and their home. Sunny is in good hands, and that makes him pleased.

After that Franky thinks he probably loses some time, because his hearing gets all fuzzy but that serious, grimly satisfied voice to his side could only be Zoro, and wasn't Zoro a lot farther away before? He cracks open an eye and flops his head over to the side...woah, he's really fuzzy now. Everything is all hazy and Franky keeps losing bits of time so he guesses that Chopper found somewhere to put the drugs in him (that, or he's dying. Franky would prefer the drugs). He's, like, he's really super grateful for that. So grateful. Honestly, how do his nakama deal with pain like this? It's not okay. It's really not okay and he's kinda upset now, thinking about them hurting like he still does.

_Don't be stupid, stupid, you're the one who got hurt. We're fine._ Whoops, guess he said that out loud. Franky can't help but grin though, because he opens his eyes again and Luffy is staring upside down at his face, sitting above the cyborg's head and leaning over to look at his prone nakama. Franky keeps grinning even though Luffy isn't, even though the rubberman's voice is a little rough, even though his eyes are dark and his mouth twisted and Franky bets his fists are clenched against his knees. Heh, if the captain got so worked up then it _must_ have been a real easy fight. Luffy gets _scary_ strong when he's furious, and Franky guesses that the wreck of his arm must look pretty nasty. But even though the pain is no longer a suffocating cacophony thanks to Chopper Luffy doesn't smile along, doesn't lighten up, just sits there and stares into Franky's eyes like he's trying to find something in them (which would be weirdly, awkwardly intimate if it were anyone else). Franky doesn't quite understand why Luffy is so serious, can't think properly with his head swamped in drugs and pulses of dulled pain. It's tiring and annoying and he doesn't like it. People like Luffy should smile all the time, it's not good when they aren't, but unlike Nami, Luffy ought to know better.

Maybe Franky says that out loud again, maybe Luffy sees something in his face, because the young captain murmurs inaudibly as he hunches over even further. For a split second Franky thinks Luffy is trying to kiss him or something, because he doesn't trust his captain to be scared off by the traces of blood around his mouth, but he doesn't. The rubberman merely rests his forehead against Franky's and stays there, sighing. _Don't._ Luffy's voice mutters, fists opening to curl around the shipwright's cold metal head. _Don't do that, it's not fun._ Do what? _Surprise us all like that. You're a cyborg, silly, cyborgs aren't supposed to bleed._ Oh. That. That was nothing. _No it wasn't._ Yes it was, he's bled way more before. If his arm's still mostly attached, then it'll be fine. _…That's stupid. You're not allowed to get hurt like that._ Why? He's still human, humans get hurt. _I know that, just...don't get hurt like that, it's bad. It_ feels _bad._ Of course it feels bad, his arm got blown up. _Not to you, silly, to us. It feels really nasty, inside, watching you get hurt like that. You're a cyborg, you're like Zoro._ Zoro's a cyborg? Is that why his eye is— _Zoro's not a cyborg, stupid, otherwise he'd have wires and stuff. Hey, Zoro?_ Luffy leans up suddenly. His fingers are still warm against Franky's head, though, so he doesn't mind. _Are you a cyborg? Do you have_ beams _?_ A gruff snort and accompanying short _No_.

Then Luffy drops his head back down and huffs shortly, his hot breath on Franky's face, who feels oddly as though he's being marked. _You're like Zoro because I don't have to worry about Zoro, most of the time. Zoro is really, really tough like you. Only you're a cyborg and he isn't. So when you get hurt really bad, it feels really nasty because none of us expect you to get hurt like that. So don't._ We all get hurt sometimes, Luffy, you can't keep us safe all the time. _...I know. But it's my job, and it makes me feel all weird and icky inside when you guys get hurt, so don't do things like that._ Only if you do the same. _Fine._

Franky knows by long experience that this is the best he'll get out of his stubborn, bullheaded captain, so he doesn't say anything else. Besides, he's getting really really woozy all of a sudden. As Franky's mind slides away from consciousness, the last things he senses are Chopper's voice saying something about moving him to the Sunny, and Luffy's warm hands still curled around his head. With things like that to feel, though, maybe this whole touch thing isn't so bad in the end.


End file.
